


Lost in Translation

by Pseudthisyafucks (collettephinz)



Category: Jelix - Fandom, Youtube - RPF, septicpie - Fandom
Genre: Bad Translations, Boys Kissing, Felix is actually a lot more sentimental than he lets on, Gay, Jack learns Swedish to catch Felix in the act of being an asshole and he ends up being wrong, M/M, Scare PewDiePie, Swedish, bad coping techniques, emotionally stunted Felix, growing relationship, jack being a cutie, my favorite tag, nervous Pewds, nosy Jack, worried Sean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8954995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/Pseudthisyafucks
Summary: There's a lot that can be said about the language barrier. Jack had never thought Felix would speak in Swedish so often, but now that they were dating, it was undeniable and always in Jack's face. Considering how he and Felix usually talked to one another, Jack could only assume that Felix was talking shit about him to his face in that foreign tongue. Jack couldn't have been more wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has inspired me to learn Swedish
> 
> and it's so much fucking easier than Arabic, so i'm excited

Jack didn’t know a lot of Swedish. That was the nice way to put it, too. He knew two curse words, knew that when Felix said something with the word “jag,” or “mig,” he was talking about himself, and “du,” meant it was something about Jack or someone else. He also knew how Felix said “I love you.” That was it. Everything else was overcomplicated gibberish with a bit too much phlegm for Jack to replicate. Every time he did try, Felix would smile fondly, shake his head, then tear Jack’s pronunciation to pieces. It was a little humiliating, especially in the company of others, so Jack didn’t try to repeat Felix’s Swedish often.

But the curiosity never left him.

Felix spoke his native tongue a lot more often than most would think. Waking up in the morning was when Jack heard it most often. Those first moments of wakefulness in the wee hours of the morning, when the sun was in Jack’s eyes and their bodies were still sore from the night before. Felix would roll onto his side, put an arm around Jack, and call him something in Swedish that probably had to be a slur and ruin the warm fuzzy feeling in Jack’s stomach.

Jack really wasn’t optimistic about the things Felix had to be saying. In the kitchen, when Jack was cooking potatoes for what Felix thought was the billionth time that day, Felix would say the same thing every time he saw him in front of the stove. 

__

_“Jag kan inte tänka mig ett liv utan dig.”_

__

Jack was one hundred percent positive, with the way Felix was smirking at him when he said it, that Felix was calling him a filthy Irishman. That was the only thing he could be saying, after all, what with how Felix would slap his ass and call him a fucker right after. Jack didn’t mind, though. He knew Felix would rather call Jack half assed names than say he loved him, and Jack was the same way. He would say he thought Felix was amazing and talented in videos, but when it was just them? He called Felix just as many names, get more creative by the day. He and Felix didn’t do romantic and lovey-dovey. They were both men with the minds of boys and they showed affection through teasing. It was just the way they worked. 

But it was aggravating to know someone was calling you what had to be the most original and hilarious insults known to man in another fucking language that you didn’t understand. Jack just wanted to know, you know? He wanted to be in on the jokes that apparently only Felix was privy to, and the occasional Swedish speaker that was lucky enough to cross their path. Felix always lit up like a firecracker when he got to speak Swedish with someone else. The conversation would go at a million miles a second, Felix would talk with his hands, and Jack would always hear his name in there. The other person would laugh or smile politely, and Jack knew, just knew, that Felix was talking shit about him. 

He hated that half the time he couldn’t even defend himself to strangers and against Felix. How was it fair to call someone shit in another language, a language that the other person didn’t understand? Jack loved a good, square fight. Felix, though— he played dirty, in and out of the bedroom. He knew how to make Jack buckle beneath him, beg for cock, and he talked shit about Jack in Swedish. He knew all of Jack’s weak spots, like the sensitive skin between Jack’s thighs, and knew Jack didn’t understand much outside of English. Felix could turn Jack into a trembling mess in bed and a fumbling idiot in conversation. 

Jack told himself he didn’t mind.

He really didn’t, half the time. But the other half? The other half left him fuming. Sometimes, he wouldn’t talk to Felix after Felix said something that sounded particularly harsh, no matter how much the Swedish man laughed and begged. Jack could be a stubborn fucker when he wanted to. And he refused to talk to Felix. Felix called it pouting, Jack called it effective.

“Just take some online classes,” Mark would say, oh so high and mighty. “There are apps to learn these things now. Just do it. Duolingo is a good one, too. You’ll learn faster than you think.”

Jack was stubborn. But he wasn’t stupid.

It took months, though. Months of listening to Felix say things about Jack in that foreign, frustrating tongue, months of going through the elementary basics of a language that left Jack aggravated and boiling. Then, Felix was gone.

Not actually gone. Just away. A month in LA, recording the third season of Scare PewDiePie. Jack hated it, hated being away from the Swede, but he had his own set up, couldn’t really just follow Felix to LA like he wanted. Felix had been so fucking nice about it too, telling him it was okay, that he would be fine on his own. Jack couldn’t come see him until the last three days of recording, and mostly because Jack was scheduled to record an episode with him. 

He was a little pissed about being away for so long, but when he did see Felix again? He was going to be prepared.

At the end of that month (from the previous eight months of studying, putting an effort into academic learning that Jack had never done before), Jack was able to understand a high school level Swedish. He wasn’t good at speaking, far from it. He was barely able to read. But listening, he could handle. And that was all he had really wanted. 

He wasn’t going to let Felix in on the secret. He was going to listen for a while, just to make sure he could handle Felix’s conversation speed. Still, he'd gone from “ _jag är en pojke_ ” to “ _jag verkligen hatar att se denna show på TV_ ” in less than a year, and it was impressive. Jack felt like he should be given some sort of medal or award. He’d done something statistically trackable and he knew Felix loved numbers. He couldn’t wait to fuck with Felix.

“Jack!" Felix shouted, so much excitement in his voice, more than Jack had heard in a while. It made his chest tighten and Jack was relieved to be with his boyfriend again. He grinned and waved to Felix as Felix ran towards him, closing the distance between them both at the airport’s international arrivals. Jack was a little shy. He ducked his head moments before Felix reached him, scooping him up in his arms. Jack melted into the warm embrace, drinking Felix in like water, shoving his face into Felix’s neck to plant a kiss to his pulse. 

“ _Jag har saknat dig så mycket,_ ” Felix said. Jack caught most of the phrase, and wished he could say that he’d missed Felix too. But he wasn’t going to let Felix know what he’d been up to just yet. Hiding his Swedish learning for all those months had to pay off somehow. “ _Jag kommer att ta dig hem och knulla dig i madrassen,_ ” and okay, Jack also knew what that meant. He blushed fiercely, hoping Felix meant what he’d said. His right hand didn’t do shit for him compared to what Felix could do with one fucking finger. “Wait till you see the place they gave me,” Felix told him. “It’s grade A Hollywood bullshit. It’s awesome. It has a rainfall shower head and a jacuzzi.” Felix smirked and pulled away from the hug to wink shamelessly at Jack. “So what do you say? Come home with me?”

“Like I’ve got anywhere else to stay,” Jack griped, though he smiled back. “‘M tired, Fe’. Feed me and let me sleep. Then we’ll see about your fancy shower.”

And just like that, it was as if they hadn’t been apart for more than an hour. Felix pointed out all the new places he’d found during his third prolonged stay in LA, audibly excited. His hands were moving in the air, he was jabbing his finger into the window of the car, and his mouth wouldn’t stop moving. Jack more so watched him talk than listened to the words he was saying. 

The car pulled up in front of the white house with the front fence and huge lawn. Felix showed him around the sleek, modern abode that fit everything Jack had stereotyped for LA and Jack immediately sought out the bed, sinking into it. He wasn’t to record anything until the next morning. He had about fourteen hours to catch up on his sleep. Jack was out like a light before his head hit the pillow.

. . .

Jack woke up with fingers in his hair, hands on his neck, and a dick against his own. He moaned and reached up to hold on to Felix, barely able to keep up. _“Du är så vacker så här,”_ Felix said. Jack’s brain wasn’t awake enough to try and translate. He didn’t want too hear Felix call him a needy fuck anyways for at least three seconds. _“Jag vet inte hur jag fått sån tur,”_ Felix murmured into his skin, rolling his hips against Jack’s. Jack shuddered and held on tight, already feeling the pleasure curling low in his gut. It had been way too long since he got off with another warm body. _“Jag vill göra dig min för evigt_ …”

“Fuck, Felix,” Jack groaned, grinding his cock into his boyfriend’s thigh. “Little faster, ‘m almost there, c’mon…”

Felix chuckled and did as requested, sitting up for leverage and pressing his thigh between Jack’s legs. _“Du är det vackraste jag någonsin sett,”_ he said. _“Tack för att jag får ha dig.”_

Jack came with a breathy sigh through his nose, arching off the bed, curling his toes and biting on his lower lip. The orgasm ran through him like warm water and when he slumped back onto the sheets, he felt loose and satisfied. He almost wished he’d been really listening to what Felix had been saying. He heard Felix’s moan as Felix came against him and smirked regardless. Jack finally opened his eyes and blinked up at him. The morning sun streamed in through the blinds to their left. Felix was above him, his hair a mess and his clothes rumpled. He was smiling breathlessly down at Jack with flushed cheeks.

“Good morning, you dirty Irish fuck,” Felix said, ruining the magic of the moment and making Jack fall a little more in love. “Ready to scare the pants off of me?”

“Mmm, I’d rather just get yer pants off in general,” Jack said, stretching languidly. “When do we start recordin’?”

“You go to the studio in about two hours,” Felix said. “I won’t join you until later. They’ve got to tell you the plot and your role and stuff. I’m pretty sure you have lines too.” Felix sat up and slapped Jack’s hip lightly. _“Ta sig upp,”_ Felix said. Jack recognized that as “get up.” He sat up obediently and Felix looked surprised.

“I’m hungry,” Jack said as an excuse. He swung his leg off the bed and went to see what was available for breakfast with a proud smirk on his lips. His plan was going so well.

. . .

He spent the day going over lines and places he was supposed to stand and felt so fucking bad for what they were about to do to Felix. He honestly hated _Scare PewDiePie_ more than a little, because he knew the kind of stress it put on Felix. Felix could get pretty self destructive with his need to deliver something entertaining and up-to-standard for his viewers. He would run himself into the ground if he didn’t have someone else keeping tabs on him. Like the rest of the world, Jack thought Felix was hilarious when he was afraid. But he didn’t like the aftermath— how Felix would jump at random noises and sleep a little less easily for the next few days. Yet Felix wanted to do this. Knew people looked forward to it. 

Jack hated that people looked forward to it. 

The actual main event was hard for Jack. The scenario was a sort of “choose who dies” situation. For most of the night, Jack was helping Felix solve a puzzle; get through the rooms and get out “alive”. But Jack ended up getting “split up” from Felix near the end and the last room had five “fans” who were all actors Felix had been introduced to over the series in one glass cage, and Jack in the other. The villain of the night had his hand over one button and Felix had the other. Felix had to choose between saving the five fans or saving Jack from drowning as the glass cages filled with water, and he could only save one. The hardest part had been the split second that Jack could see where Felix had forgotten this was all fake. 

He remembered the words Felix had said: “ _du inte skada honom.” Don’t hurt him_. In the split second where Felix had forgotten what was reality, his first thought had been to beg for Jack’s life. It was touching in a way that made Jack regret ever agreeing to this bullshit. Felix had quickly recovered for the cameras, of course, and had done the “right” thing. He’d chosen the fans, and then gone on through the rooms. At the end, Jack had revealed himself to still be alive, and the way Felix had hugged him in the ending shot had been a little too real for them both. Jack knew he was going to have a serious conversation with the producers if they intended on pulling a cruel stunt like this again.

The ride home was mostly silent. Jack could tell Felix was tired. 

“… If we ever end up in a situation like that, I’ll probably die before I choose you,” Felix suddenly said. His voice was weary. Jack was relieved he’d be taking Felix home in two days. “I can’t- I couldn’t—” Felix fell silent. Jack watched him wet his lips. “ _Jag är inte stark nog att göra detta utan dig._ ”

Jack only got a few words of that, but what he understood broke his already aching heart. Felix had said he wasn’t strong enough to be without Jack. Jack knew how that felt. Barely a year together, and already they were so invested in the other person. Most of the time, Jack saw that as affirmation that being together was the best thing to ever happen to both of them. But times like now, Jack just knew it was another way to hurt.

“I’m okay, Fe’,” Jack promised, reaching over the leather seat to hold Felix’s hand. Felix didn’t pull his hand back, which actually wasn’t a good sign. Felix wasn’t one for public signs of affection inside a vehicle that usually had a camera. “Got any food back at the house?”

“I bought a shit ton of In’N’Out cause this is literally the only time we can ever get that stuff,” Felix said. “There’s leftovers.”

“Good enough for me.”

Felix kept his hand in Jack’s for the rest of the ride. When they went to bed, Felix spooned Jack, and Jack didn’t complain for once. He couldn’t bring himself to feel annoyed with how Felix was holding him so tightly like he was scared Jack would slip away. 

. . .

Over the next day, Felix was a lot clingier. He stuck to Jack’s side as they walked around LA, touring the city, really enjoying themselves. He bought the random shit that Jack’s eyes lingered on a little longer than usual and kept offering to stop for food. Jack thought it was worrisome. But again, after last night, he wasn’t going to call Felix out.

There was a lot of Swedish, too. And none of it was what Jack expected. 

_“Du har den bästa butt.”_ That was Felix complimenting Jack’s ass.

 _“Du är mycket mer än jag någonsin kunde förtjäna.”_ That was Felix saying Jack was more than he deserved.

 _“Jag önskar jag kunde tillbringa dagen med dig i sängen istället för att vara runt alla dessa idioter.”_ That was Felix’s longwinded way of saying he’d rather be indoors with Jack than outside with jerks. 

Felix was saying really alarmingly sweet things. Jack had always assumed Felix had been insulting his manhood or saying he sucked and was Irish and shit. But Felix hadn’t say anything like that, anything at all. Not one fucking insult had passed Felix’s lips in Swedish. English, now, that was another story. 

“I’m gonna fuck you up, you fucking potato!” Felix shouted as he and Jack played Overwatch in a Gamestop in a strip mall. Jack was forever in awe of all the fucking malls in America. Felix let out a cry of triumph as he beat Jack in 1-v-1 in arcade mode. Jack cursed and almost threw the controller. 

“Just switch to fuckin’ Quickplay,” Jack said, ready to kick Felix’s ass somehow. Felix snickered and switched the gaming mode, selecting Reaper once a match had been found for them. Jack went for Solider76 without much thought, but as they were waiting for the match to start, Jack realized his mistake when Felix came up to him and started spamming the Reaper dialogue button. Jack tried to get his character away while Felix’s Reaper followed him around, saying “death comes for all, death comes for all, death comes for all,” over and fucking over again.

“Don’t run from me, Jack,” Felix said, using that weird deep voice Jack liked to make fun of. “People ship us. Let the fangirls have what they want.”

“Are ye’ talking about us, or these pricks?” Jack asked, rolling his eyes. 

“Gay grandpas since twenty-sixteen, motherfucker,” Felix deadpanned. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill ye’,” Jack warned as the match started. He knew he and Felix were on the same team, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fucking kill his boyfriend. 

Felix laughed and said, “ _Jag är så glad att jag har inte kört bort dig ännu,”_ and Jack almost chastised Felix for having the “yet” in that statement. Felix could never drive Jack away. If anything, it’d be the other way around. Jack was realizing that pretending he couldn’t understand the random sweet things Felix said was a lot harder than he’d originally thought it would be. He wished he could give up on his game and reassure Felix. But he’d come this far— he was just waiting for the right moment. 

He set his jaw and focused on kicking Felix’s ass even though friendly fire was on.

. . .

Taking Felix home was a relief. Jack knew that Felix was beginning to associate LA with a little bit of trauma. He couldn’t imagine how awful it was to spend a month in a busy city and have people be paid to scare the shit out of you every night. The paranoia had to be real for his boyfriend at this point. 

“I’m just pumped to sleep in our bed again,” Felix groaned as he tried to get comfortable in his seat for the ten hour flight home. “Pretty excited to fuck you in it too.”

Jack snorted and looked up from his Spiderman comic book that Felix had bought him the other day in the city. “You can’ae be serious. You got some before we fucking left for the airport. Is sex all you think about?”

“ _Du är den enda som jag tycker om,_ ” Felix replied with a cheeky grin. _You’re all I think about._ Jack was blushing before he could stop himself and quickly hid his face back in the book. He felt Felix stiffen beside him and knew he’d need to make up something fast to cover this up.

“Feel like yer insulting me,” Jack lied. He knew now that Felix had probably never insulted him in Swedish. 

Felix only shrugged and pulled out his fancy headphones. “Wake me up for snacks.”

Jack didn’t wake Felix up for snacks when he saw that Felix was actually sleeping. That was a godsend after the month Felix had had.

. . .

The thing was, now that Jack knew Felix wasn’t insulting him, he was acutely aware of why Felix had to say all these nice things to Jack in only Swedish. He was worried about coming off as sappy or weak or stupid, and god, didn’t that feel like a kick to the nuts. Jack wasn’t sure who had hurt Felix so much to make him insecure in relationships like this, but he wanted to hunt them down and smash their face into the ground. 

He talked to Mark about it and Mark had only affirmed his suspicions. It wasn’t like people were just born scared to say they loved someone. There had to be betrayal and knives in the back and pain, and Felix had to have been so affected by it that it translated into other relationships. Jack almost felt like he had to confront Felix about this, except he knew that cornering Felix would only make this worse.

Jack wished he could say something, but he was in too deep at this point. Coming out and saying he understood Swedish now would probably humiliate Felix after some of the intimate things he’d confessed to Jack in the safety of his native tongue. 

They’d been in bed together, Felix looming over Jack, just barely lit up by the moonlight. Felix had just bottomed out inside Jack, leaving the smaller man breathless and squirming, wanting more. Felix hadn’t moved, though. He’d bent over, kissed Jack so sweetly that Jack was sure he’d get cavities, and whispered in his ear,“ _Ibland, när du sover, jag håller på att handleden bara så jag kan känna pulsen och vet att du lever._ ”

Jack had almost choked on his own tongue. He’d been grateful for the darkness of the room. Felix didn’t usually say such long statements in Swedish, but whenever he did, from then on, Jack would pay attention.

_Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll hold on to your wrist just so I can feel your pulse and know you’re alive._

Humiliatingly enough, Jack had almost started crying. Jack had always been the one to be more revealing with his emotions, but he’d never really thought Felix could feel things so deeply that he’d have to go so far as assuring himself of Jack’s wellbeing with his midnight pulse. Jack wished he could ask what had happened to Felix. Jack knew he never would. 

He’d know when to drop this act soon. But for now, he’d just watch his reactions and hope Felix wouldn’t end up too pissed once he did find out Jack had been able to understand the whole time.

. . .

His misguided game came to an end when Felix made the ultimate confession that Jack couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear.

_“Jag ska gifta mig med dig en dag.”_

Jack had come out of recording an Oculus video, wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt and drinking out of a gatorade bottle full of tap water because his throat hurt. He’d nearly ran into Felix, who’d been heading to his own recording office. Jack had knocked himself over in his effort to not run into Felix and had lost his footing, nearly falling on his face. He’d ended up on his knees and made a wisecrack. “I always knew ye’ liked me better on me knees.”

Felix had burst out laughing, eyes crinkling because that was what happened when he smiled for real. He’d offered Jack a hand and pulled him up, kissing his cheek as Jack stood. Jack had turned to head on into the kitchen when Felix had murmured, in a voice so soft that Jack was sure he wasn’t meant to understand what had been said whether it was in Swedish or not, _“Jag ska gifta mig med dig en dag.”_

I’m going to marry you one day.

Jack had stumbled, had choked on his water, had gone wide eyed and shocked and whirled around to stare at Felix, wondering if he was going crazy and hearing voices. But with the way Felix had looked just as surprised, and then so fucking scared, Jack knew he had heard correctly. 

“You know what I said,” Felix choked out, hands shaking. “How long have you understood the shit I’ve been saying?”

“Since ye’ left,” Jack said. “Did you… Do you mean that?”

“You’ve been listening to me this whole time and haven’t said anything?” Felix ran a hand over face. “… What the fuck, Seán? How could you…”

“I thought ye’ were insulting me,” Jack struggled to explain, guilt slamming him in the chest. “I’d just wanted to know. I studied for months, and my listening skills are really good now. I’m getting okay at speaking, too. But the more I listened, the more I heard, and I just… I didn’t want to tell you that I could understand because… I was worried you’d stop saying those things.” Jack looked down, cheeks flushed with shame. “I should’ve told ye’. I’m sorry.”

Felix was leaning against the wall now, looking at the floor. Jack couldn't read his face. “I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I wish you’d say those things to me face,” Jack confessed, wrapping his arms around his chest. He hadn’t excepted this conversation today, but it was happening anyways. “I don’t know what happened to ye’ to make you so scared to tell me what you fee, but I want ye’ tah know that I don’t think any less of ye’ for it. It sucks yer not comfortable enough to be yerself with me in English, but I’m happy that you can at all, at least in Swedish.”

“Fuck,” Felix said, running a hand over his face again. “I… am so embarrassed.”

Jack cracked a grin. “If it helps, I’m pretty pleased ye’ like me ass so much.”

“Fuck you, Jack,” Felix said, but he was laughing a little. “Just… I wish I’d known. Probably would’ve said less embarrassing shit.”

“Caring about someone isn’t embarrassing.”

Felix shrugged. “… Would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Marry me.”

Jack paused. “… Once we were ready, yeah. You and I— we aren’t ready for something like that yet. We’re both still fucking twelve at heart. And we like having our own things, too. Still, the only person I can see myself happily spending the rest of my life with is you. So, I’d say yes. I would marry ye’.” He smiled a little wider. “That okay?”

“It’s fucking perfect,” Felix said, striding forward to wrap Jack up and kiss him passionately. “Not today. But someday.”

“Someday,” Jack echoed, kissing him back just as lovingly. 

_“Vill du hångla den resterande natten?”_

Jack laughed against his lips and shook his head at Felix’s childishness. “I would love to.” Felix scooped Jack up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom, where they spent the rest of the night, necking like idiots and relishing in all the new ways they’d be able to dick over their friends now that they could communicate in Swedish with one another.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Jag kan inte tänka mig ett liv utan dig_. - i can’t imagine life without you
> 
>  _Jag har saknat dig så mycket_ \- i’ve missed you so much
> 
>  _Jag kommer att ta dig hem och knulla dig i madrassen_ \- i’m going to take you home and fuck you into the mattress
> 
>  _du är så vacker som här_ \- you’re so beautiful like this
> 
>  _Jag vet inte hur jag någonsin fick så lycklig_ \- i don’t know how i ever got so lucky
> 
>  _Jag vill göra dig min för evigt_ \- want to make you mine forever
> 
>  _du är det vackraste jag någonsin sett_ \- you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen
> 
>  _Tack för att jag har dig_ \- thank you for letting me have you
> 
>  _Jag är inte stark nog att göra detta utan dig_. - i’m not strong enough to do this without you
> 
>  _Jag är så glad att jag har inte kört bort dig ännu_ \- i’m so glad i haven’t driven you away yet
> 
>  _vill kyssa för resten av natten_ \- wanna make out for the rest of the night?


End file.
